Sex and the Single Life

Philip Turner

What is it that Christians ought to say and do about the issue of sexual
relations between single people? This question currently presses most painfully
upon the life of the churches. The real issue is not whether the churches
ought to adopt a new sexual ethic, but whether the new sexual ethic they
are in fact in the process of adopting is one that is "worthy of (their)
calling." Let me explain.

In 1982, Newsweek magazine published the results of a poll carried
out by two scholars at Johns Hopkins University. It showed that one out
of every five young women who reach the age of fifteen admitted to having
had sexual intercourse. By the time these young women reach sixteen the
figure rises to one in three, and by the time they are seventeen the number
is one of every two. If we add to this the sexual activity of young men
of the same age, of gay men and lesbian women at a later stage of life,
and that of unmarried and divorced heterosexual couples, it becomes clear
that the sexual practice of people in our society is quite different from
that held to be normative by the traditional teaching of the churches.

The notable change in behavior that has taken place over the past thirty
years would not be of such great significance if it were not accompanied
as well by a change in the way people think about sexual relations. There
have, after all, been many periods and places where sexual practice has
been quite loose. There have as well been periods and places where it has
been quite strictly controlled. Changes in behavior are not new, but the
way in which we as a society are now beginning to think about that behavior
is quite new.

James Nelson's very popular book, Embodiment, provides an exemplary
instance of revisionist Christian thinking on this subject, and it does
so for two reasons. The first and most obvious is that what he has to say
captures so well the essence of the revisionist argument, and second it
makes clear that the argument of the revisionists is the same whether they
are speaking of heterosexual or homosexual relations. This second point
is important because the two issues are usually treated separately-as if
what one argued about relations between members of the same sex was quite
different from what one might argue about relations between people of different
sexes. Though these two cases may be distinct, the issues in both are not
all that different. In large measure, they engage the same points, and
thus it is a mistake in moral reasoning to address them as if they were
utterly discrete issues.

The line of argument Nelson himself follows makes this very point and
shows it to be a line that is quite explicit in the arguments being made
by the new reformers. What he has to say about sexual relations between
single people, be they heterosexual or homosexual, is of a piece with,
and in the end but an extension of, what he says about marital relations
themselves. The basic point to be made about all forms of sexual relation
is that they are supposed to be a means for the "expression of love"
and so also for the establishment and maintenance of "communion."
They are, therefore, appropriate only when a certain degree of "loving
commitment" is present. When this degree of love and commitment is
present, they are acceptable. It is simply the case that sexual relations
are "natural" to "embodied" life, and so may be (and
indeed usually are) necessary for the wholeness and fulfillment of individuals
no matter what their marital status, sexual orientation, or gender identification
may be.

The moral acceptability of these relations, then, is seen to depend
not on an undertaking the terms of which are set by Divine providence but
on the motivations and intentions of moral agents, and on the nature and
consequences of their acts. The acceptable motive for a sexual relationship
is love; the acceptable intention is that "each genital act should
aim at human fulfillment and wholeness." "Fulfillment" and
"wholeness" in turn are said to involve emotional sustenance,
healing, and, most of all, growth for the parties involved. As can easily
be anticipated, in this scheme of things the sexual act itself is to be
judged not on the basis of goods that are internally related to the act
itself (unity and procreation), but on the basis of whether or not it is
"loveless." A loveless act is one that is "coercive, debasing
to others' sensitivities, utterly impersonal, [or] obsessed solely by physical
gratification."

Nelson's point is easily grasped, but it is easy to miss its staggering
implication, namely, that there is, properly speaking, no special ethic
for sexual relations. Sexual acts are to be judged in the same way all
other acts are to be judged: on the basis of whether they promote flourishing
and avoid harm and coercion. Sexual acts, like all others, have no particular
goods or ends that are proper to them, and for this reason, like all acts,
are to be assessed only on the basis of intention on the one hand and results
on the other. There is, as Nelson says, no act that is "inherently
right or wrong."

Nevertheless, precisely because moral acts are relative in this way,
in all sexual relations certain promises are necessary if the parties involved
are not to harm one another, affront one another's dignity, or illegitimately
rob one another of their liberty. Thus Nelson insists, as do most of the
new reformers, that in all sexual relations there ought to be present "commitment,"
"openness" (or "vulnerability"), and "care."

Now these universally mandated promises are to be not made in relation
to the particular undertakings that might arise out of individual needs
and desires. Neither are they mandated by the intrinsic nature of the acts
themselves nor by the set nature of the undertakings of which those acts
may rightly be a part. They are mandated simply to promote "respect
for persons" and so to insure that their rights are not trampled upon.
These promises do not derive from undertakings or from a moral character
intrinsic to human acts. They derive instead from the need to protect the
rights of individuals to choose their undertakings and so contract by means
of promises for particular goods in the sexual market place.

In making this argument, Nelson speaks with the voice of our culture,
and in so doing gives expression to the views of a significant number of
Christians as well. It is clear that what he says applies to marital relations,
adulterous relations, and to relations between single people both of the
same and of opposite sex. There is no special line of reasoning needed
for any of these forms of relationship because each is but another form
of expressing love with a view to the establishment and maintenance of
communion and for the promotion of growth.

The objections to this position are well known. It is, say many, quite
contrary to the plain sense of Scripture. Critics further insist that terms
like "commitment," "vulnerability," and "care"
as used by the new reformers are, when compared to the vows demanded in
the marriage rite, both extraordinarily limited in their content and vague
in respect to the matter of duration. This limitation of both the extent
and duration of the bond that ought to link people in a sexual relation
has the effect of making such relations increasingly unstable and at the
same time of trimming the virtues required of the agents involved in them.

Critics point out further that the new reformers must make a division
in principle between the sexual and marital goods of unity and procreation
and thereby make licit forms of "baby making" that have, in principle,
no connection with "lovemaking." The point is also made that
if the arguments of the new reformers are applied, as usually they are,
both to heterosexuals and homosexuals, they effectively erase the moral
significance (for sexual relations) of the sexual and gender-related differences
between men and women.

In response, proponents of Nelson's position charge that the understanding
of the Bible held by defenders of the "traditional ethic" gives
undue authority to specific texts. These are after all relative to time
and circumstance and are subject to judgment on the basis of whether or
not they serve the purposes of love. Advocates claim further that the "traditional
ethic" has plunged people into precipitous and disastrous marriages.
They note that the traditional ethic takes no account of the vastly extended
period that now exists between the onset of puberty and the age when marriage
is possible and appropriate. They remind their readers also of the fact
that there are now an extremely large number of permanently single people
and that, if they are homosexual, marriage is out of the question for them
altogether. They go on to assert that these people are nonetheless sexual
beings with needs and desires that must not be ignored if they are to have
healthy and full lives. They point out that sexual relationships are "natural"
to human beings, are part of the world created by God, are good, and that
no one ought to be denied such a relation simply on the basis of marital
status or sexual orientation.

The above arguments and counterarguments are well known. It is clear,
however, that the parties to this debate in large measure simply talk past
each other. Neither engages the point the other is trying to make. One
reason for this failure to engage in genuine debate is that the parties
to the disagreement have very different views both of moral agency and
the nature of the moral life. This difference is an extremely important
one to note for the simple reason that the ideas of the new reformers enjoy
an increasing appeal-their notions about moral agency and the nature of
the moral life cohering so well with the views about these matters that
now are characteristic of American culture.

This coherence can be seen in the place of honor now given two words
that serve to sum up both moral agency and the moral life. The words are
"person" and "self," and the adequacy of the position
of the new reformers hinges largely upon the adequacy of these two words
(as now used) to account for the nature of the moral life and the nature
of moral agency. Person and self are the words that carry our present-day
moral universe, and it is sad to note that the more traditional arguments
about sexual relations have failed to take their meaning and power into
account. As a result, the traditional views still officially held by the
churches seem to many people strangely out of place. The same cannot be
said of the new reformers. They trade upon the current power and meaning
of these words, and thus their arguments present themselves with enormous
force.

Force of presentation and strength of appeal do not, however, imply
anything about adequacy. Here, the focus will be not on "persons"
and their "rights" but on "selves" and the various
attendant notions that give this conception its resonance and power. It
is really the notion of the self that provides the greatest support for
the view of promises and undertakings we have been tracking. It lies at
the heart of revisionist arguments about sex, and these cannot be assessed
apart from an analysis of the significance and adequacy of "the self"
as a moral notion.

What, in a moral sense, do we convey when we refer to people as "selves"?
Charles Taylor has pointed out that there are three assumptions that serve
to give the self its moral definition. The first is that the self does
not define people by social status and role but by inwardness, by a subjectivity
that gives each moral agent depths. These depths make each self an "individual."
The second is that the self's proper sphere of activity is "everyday
life" rather than, let us say, the mythical landscape of heroes or
the heavenly one of saints. The third is that each self has abilities and
that the point of everyday life is to discover those abilities and put
them into operation. In this way the self grows, discovers its depths,
and finds the satisfactions everyday life is supposed to yield.

Along with these notions of self come three moral ideas that direct
and limit the self's activities. The first is benevolence. Each self ought
to act in a generous fashion toward all other selves so that each self
can find the conditions necessary for its growth and development. The second
is justice understood first of all as the guarantee of rights. Each self
has dignity and as such should be accorded rights that protect that dignity
and allow the self to pursue its good without undue impediment. The third
moral idea is that suffering can be and ought to be eliminated from daily
life. Indeed, the elimination of suffering, in a way that would strike
people of previous ages as wildly utopian, has become a major social imperative.
In the moral world inhabited by "selves," suffering is in no
way seen as either an inevitable or as a useful part of life.

Even this brief summary of Taylor's account of the self ought to make
clear the "fit" between contemporary notions of moral agency
and the views of the new Christian reformers. If we further assume that
"sexuality" in some way defines the inner depths of the self,
and if "sexuality" is thought to stamp the powers and abilities
the self is to discover, develop, and exercise in the course of daily life,
then, all other things being equal, it makes sense to say that sexual relations
ought not to be tied to anything like set undertakings. To speak of sexual
undertakings in the way implied by the traditional marriage rites of the
churches is to deny people access to a basic human good from the start
and for reasons that are difficult if not impossible for modern people
to grasp.

Indeed, the traditional teachings of the churches seem neither benevolent
nor just, and are most certainly believed to cause suffering. Given the
present social climate, those not involved in a sexual relation are bound
to feel a keen sense of insufficiency (and perhaps exclusion). Lacking
such a relation, people are apt to feel that their lives are lacking a
basic good, and it therefore makes no sense to most of them to say that,
because they are not married, cannot marry, or ought not to marry, that
they ought also to abstain from sexual relations.

Assumptions like these about "sexuality" are just those that
Michel Foucault says accompany modern ideas about the "self."
In the first volume of The History of Sexuality, Foucault says that
"sexuality" now serves the same purpose as did the word "soul"
in the Middle Ages. At that time, "soul" provided its users with
a way to unite the various aspects of human identity and, in so doing,
gave it significance. It is now the function of the word "sexuality"
to do the same thing. Thus "sexuality," "self," and
"identity" are closely linked by present usage-sometimes to the
point that the notions meld one with another. Denial of one's "sexuality"
is akin to denial of "oneself" and so also one's basic "identity."
It is, therefore, easy to understand why more and more people believe that
it is wrong to deny a sexual relation to oneself or to anyone else simply
on the basis of marital status, sexual orientation, or gender identification.
To do so is tantamount to denial of one's sexuality and so oneself. A denial
of the self's basic needs is in turn both harmful and an infringement of
each persons right to pursue a full and whole life.

The close relation that exists between the notions of "sexuality,"
"self," "identity," "fulfillment," and "right"
makes clear the links between the ideas that underlie the revisionist proposals
of the new reformers and those upon which modern political society is founded.
In both the bedroom and the public square, the purpose of social relations
is the pursuit of private life plans and personal well-being. This is the
modern agenda and it is limited only by the principles of no harm and no
coercion. It appears that the ideas about "self," "promises,"
and "undertakings" that have since the seventeenth century become
increasingly dominant in the political realm have at the same time seeped
into the more intimate spheres of life. In short, ideas that now dominate
the public arena control also the debate about sexual ethics. The basic
question for theological ethics is what the church ought to conclude about
this spread of ideas from the public to the private realm.

Their spread in fact constitutes both a gain and a loss, and the arguments
we are now having about sexual ethics will not progress until both the
gain and the loss are taken into account. First, what needs to be said
about the gain? The major difficulty with "the traditional teaching
of the church" is that it has taken little account of individual circumstances.
The particular desires and needs of men and women have too frequently been
submerged into undertakings and sacrificed too easily to the demands of
institutions. The appearance of the twin notions of person and self within
Western consciousness serves to counter the tendency to swallow up individuals
in collective purposes.

For this reason, the emergence of the sexual self is an important moral
event. To have it recognized that we are sexual selves, related in freedom
to our ends, with depths to plumb, powers to be used and developed, and
that we (all) can do these things in the course of everyday life is in
fact a giant moral leap forward. The strength of the new reformers' position
is that it recognizes the good of this step in a way that more traditional
views have often, though not always, failed to do.

On the other hand, the chief problem with the view of the new reformers
is that it fails to recognize that a sexual self, liberated from undertakings
that have a moral claim upon it prior to any of its particular intentions
and choices, has no satisfactory way to make moral judgments about what
it intends, chooses, promises, and then undertakes. The loss connected
with the modern view of the self is that, as usually conceived, the self
has only the option of following the prompting of its own depths. It therefore
appears in the unattractive guise of a dog chasing its tail.

Like "the person" that is so important to the political thought
of modern liberal society, the sexual self that is so important to modern
reflexive consciousness appoints its own ends. It need not search out the
nature of the undertakings God has appointed for it and then struggle to
confirm its desires, intentions, choices, promises, and undertakings to
those appointed ends. Neither the person nor the self is now thought to
flourish within a providence that directs the undertakings of their lives.
Rather, both are said to flourish or not as a result of the intentions
and choices that flow from their inner depths. As James Milhaven has so
clearly stated, it is now up to the autonomous self to "figure out
what will be good for those concerned and how this good can be realized,
just as it is up to [him], not God, to act and make the good a reality."

If the inner depths of the self are given this sort of authority, it
can only mean that the most insistent prompting of the self is always taken
as definitive of the self's true nature and good. The self's depths are
set up to be judge of the self's depths. Even Locke recognized that it
is unsatisfactory to make each "person" the judge in his own
case, and surely the same thing is true of "selves." To take
this view is to adopt the very dubious proposition that if one has desires
and inclinations and they are powerfully presented from the depths of the
self, they are, by virtue of the strength of their presentation, both "natural"
and "good." To take this view is also to condemn the self to
what Auden once called "promiscuous fornication with its own images."
Apart from the undertakings that present the self with its arena for action
and so its true calling, the self inevitably collapses into itself as it
chases about panting after its own productions.

From what has been said thus far, it is obvious that the liberty of
individuals to pursue private good is the major moral concern of the new
reformers and for this reason their ethical views can fairly be seen as
a variety of the contractarian social ethic now increasingly characteristic
of political society. Indeed, the fundamental point here is that the strong
appeal of the proposals being made by the new reformers is due to the fact
that they cohere so well with the way in which we now understand political
life and with the way in which we represent ourselves as moral agents.

As one might expect, however, if the reformers' arguments share the
strengths that come from coherence with the modern view of the nature of
moral and social agency, they also suffer from the weaknesses of these
views.

Long ago, Aristotle pointed out that moral arguments are not like geometrical
ones. In ethics, there are no deductions to certain conclusions. Moral
argument is cumulative rather than deductive. It serves to establish a
burden of proof rather than certainty. And when push comes to shove, the
traditional teaching of the churches has greater strengths than does the
position of the new reformers. (See my "Undertakings and Promises:
An Anatomy of Sexual Ethics," FT, April 1991.) That teaching makes
more sense of marriage and divorce. It is better able to illumine the moral
character of familial relations. It can even give a better response to
the particular moral problems posed by contemporary accounts of the moral
life and moral agency based as they are upon the twin notions of "person"
and "self." In respect to this last point, the traditional teaching
can provide persons and selves with undertakings about which they can make
promises

and, in so doing, discover, rather than collapse into, themselves.

In short, a strong case can be made for saying that, as both the common
good of society and the particular good of citizens is now threatened by
political voluntarism, so also both the common and particular good of lovers
(and families) is threatened by the voluntaristic and limited nature of
the promises and undertakings that typically characterize the new reformers'
account of sexual relations. Despite a strong climate of opinion to the
contrary, it is more adequate to argue that, in both the public square
and the bedroom, as William Werpehowski has put the traditional view, "persons
flourish in and through patterns of relationship that are themselves taken
to be normative," and that, in respect to its teaching about the undertakings
and promises that ought to accompany a sexual (or political) relation,
the church would do well to seek to preserve (again in the words of Werpehowski)
"an account of the goods of human relationship against their collapse
into the desires or interests of autonomous individuals." It is sensible
to conclude in respect to the moral problems before the churches that they
ought to defend rather than retreat from their traditional teachings and
in so doing face squarely rather than turn away from "the pathos of
Christian ethics today."

If the churches choose to face this pathos, however, they will at the
same time face pastoral issues of fearful proportions. Because the primary
intention of the new reformers is to say yes to forms of sexual relations
heretofore condemned by the churches, they have a much easier pastoral
task than do those who continue to hold to the traditional teaching. To
defend this teaching is to appear to be a "no sayer" in the eyes
of a culture for which the word "no" has less and less appeal.
The pastoral question, therefore, is whether or not the churches, in passing
on their traditions about sexual relations, have more to say than "Don't
do it."

The truth is that they do-that the pastoral import of the traditional
teachings of the churches is more fundamentally positive than negative.
Their positive character is readily apparent in the surprising yet simple
example that follows. Strange as it may seem, there is no need for someone
who holds traditional beliefs to deny that there may be much good in the
sexual relations single people enter into. Many of them produce a genuine,
though limited, community of life, and in them people often learn far more
than they knew before about the nature of love. A person would have to
be blind to miss these and other goods that are often present in relationships
which for other reasons are not right.

Indeed, if the teachings of the churches are properly understood, it
becomes apparent that the good found in these relations in fact derives
from what Christians have to say about the goods of the sexual division,
the goods of sex, and the goods of marriage itself. The churches have thought
that God created men and women for mutual society, and that, as men and
women, they are neither to avoid nor despise their life together. The social
relation between men and women is intended in creation for every man and
every woman, and it is given to them so that they will not be alone. The
first word beyond "no" to be spoken is that a sexual relation
is not necessary to escape loneliness, but social relations between men
and women are.

It is God's intention that contra-sexual social relations be entered
by all, but that sexual relations per se be contained within the more specific
bond of marriage. Within that bond, protected as they are by promises of
fidelity and permanence, sexual relations nourish the unity of the couple,
lead to the procreation of children, and provide a most immediate way for
a man and a woman to learn what it is to love another as one loves oneself.
It is the belief of the churches that this providential ordering provides
the framework within which our sexual lives can best serve not only our
well-being, but also the more general purposes of God. These are the goods
in one way or another sought in all sexual relations.

Observations like these make it obvious that Christians have far more
to say to single people than "Don't do it," and that they have
far more to say to married people than "Go right ahead." The
teachings of the churches about God's providential will for sexual relations
are rich and complex. Their truth helps define the fullness of our lives,
and apart from a full, vigorous, and positive statement, both single and
married people will find it difficult to glimpse the full extent of the
promises God has etched in their sexual natures.

If Christians are asked to say "no" to sexual relations outside
the bond of marriage, it is because they are called upon to honor God by
saying "yes" to a providential ordering of life intended both
for the glory of God and our individual and common good. What we know,
however, is that we more often say no to God's providence than yes, and
for this reason we know also that if God is not our reconciler and redeemer
as well as our creator, we are lost. God in Christ, however, is our reconciler,
redeemer, and creator, and when our sexual lives are viewed from this perspective
they take on greater significance than first we imagine. They become a
part of the way in which we learn to be disciples of Christ.

The struggle necessary if we are to direct our sexual energies to their
appointed and life-giving ends becomes, in Christ, a battle with an old
self that refuses to honor God and insists upon its own way. In the power
of the Spirit, this old nature must be put off and a new one put on. That
old nature is driven by desires, some of them sexual, that are connected
to self-serving ends. It is the teaching of the churches that both married
and single people are called to say yes to this struggle and recognize
it as part of the "upward call of God."

For most, a struggle with unfulfilled sexual longing is anything but
part of an "upward call." It seems instead a destructive, repressive,
and self-deceptive form of denial. It is the belief of Christians, however,
that entry into this battle leads men and women away from precisely these
life-destroying habits and stratagems and toward a life that is open both
to God and to their fellow men and women. To say "yes" to life
in the Spirit is in fact the only way to end self-deceptive denial and
harmful repression. The Spirit of God is the Spirit of truth and life rather
than repression and denial. It calls for us to present ourselves at each
moment to God as we are, with as much knowledge of ourselves as we can
muster, with all our desires and intentions exposed, and in so doing ask
for guidance, help, and the transfiguration of our lives. God will not
answer yes to many of the desires presented, but in saying no he will say
yes to deeper desires and deeper loves-both for God and for the men and
women with whom God has surrounded us.

God will also speak a word of forgiveness over our inadequacies and
failures and in so doing provide us strength to be even more truthful and
more compassionate. Sexual desire is a very powerful one, and at the moment
it is given full license by our society. Everything that confronts single
people conspires to say "just do it." It is increasingly rare
for a single person, at one point or another, not to be involved in a sexual
relation. In Christ, however, these relations need neither to be trumpeted
nor denied. They can be brought before God, and as they are presented they
will be judged with far more truth and love than we can muster. Another
thing the churches ought to say to single people beyond "no"
is come among us and present your life to God as it is. The upward call
of God always begins from the place one starts and it takes place in a
fellowship of friends who are also seeking to subject their loves to the
truth and love of God in Christ.

This observation calls to mind another thing the churches have to say
to single people about sex. Most people who enter even the most casual
sexual relation are not promiscuous. They are, however, lonely. Beneath
our disordered desires lies a loneliness brought about by a failure in
the common life God intends for all men and women. The churches in America
in many ways simply contribute to this loneliness. Their common life too
frequently is not formed as a society of friends who share one Lord, one
Faith, one Baptism. It is rather formed around the needs and expectations
of the bourgeois family. Single people at best are tolerated. Nevertheless,
the view that sexual relations are intended for marital rather than general
social relations is linked to the idea that close bonds between men and
women, both single and married, ought to exist in all of life's dimensions.
Because of these bonds, sexual relations themselves are not necessary as
a cure for loneliness. What is necessary is the fellowship of men and women
in Christ. This is the word beyond "no" the church has to speak
to single people. If it dares to speak, it will find not only that its
common life is transformed beyond all recognition, but also that its teachings
begin to appear to single and married people alike as a treasure to be
shared rather than as a burden to be inflicted.

This discussion of the pastoral task that lies before the churches
suggests that the ethics of sex ought to be placed within the full context
of the Christian life and the churches' pastoral ministry. Only in this
way will what Christians say escape the twin evils of punishing legalism
and boundless freedom. To place sexual relations in this full and more
adequate context, Christians ought to understand them as part of an undertaking
that encompasses all aspects of their lives. That undertaking is holiness
of life and its end is not repression but joy unconfined. This is the heart
of the Christian life and it is the chief business of the pastoral ministry.

Holiness of life summarizes better than any other notion what the Christian
life and the pastoral ministry are about. The Christian life is rooted
in the ancient command, "You shall be Holy for I the Lord your God
am Holy." The holiness of life known to Christians is based first
in the alien righteousness that is imputed to them. It is based not upon
their purity of heart and life but upon their faith in the cross and resurrection
of Christ.

Holiness is also reflected in a way of life into which disciples enter
more and more as, in the power of the Spirit, they engage in a struggle
to conform their lives to the pattern of life they see in Christ Jesus.
In this way they learn to imitate God and so share in God's life. One aspect
of the pattern of life they are called to imitate requires that they honor
God by honoring as well the way in which God intends for men and women
to join their lives in and through sexual relations.

If holiness of life is understood in relation both to justification
and sanctification, then sexual relations can be included within its compass
without the repression and deception that so often accompany their discussion.
Indeed, if we include sexual relations (and their absence) as part of a
wider account of the Christian life, we will learn, as our lives are drawn
further and further into the life of God, more about the undertakings God
sets for us by making us male and female. In the light of these undertakings,
all the promises we make to one another about our sexual lives will be
seen in truth for what they are. In this process we will learn more and
more about our bondage to self-serving and imprisoning desire. We will
also learn more about what freedom means for us as sexual beings. We will
learn more and more about the joys life holds when our desires are ordered
to the undertakings God appoints for us. In short, if the ethics of sexual
order and sexual liberation, which now contend so fiercely one with another,
are joined to an ethic of holiness of life, we will learn how necessary
each is to the other.